


Heights

by alastingimpression



Category: Nashville (TV)
Genre: F/M, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-06
Updated: 2015-11-06
Packaged: 2018-04-30 08:11:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5156543
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alastingimpression/pseuds/alastingimpression
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Layla Grant has a lot of things to work through. Takes place after episode 4x06. Heavy spoilers for that episode so please do not read if you don't want to be spoiled.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Heights

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone. This is my first fan fiction since 2007 and my first post on AO3. Please be gentle. After the happenings of episode 4x06, I had some feelings to work through and decided to write a story about Layla working through hers.

She didn’t want to love him. Their story started like a lot of romances – accidentally. They tumbled into each other and broke apart like shrapnel several times before her heart finally wore her down.

It was a bumpy ride, being Jeff Fordham’s girlfriend. It resulted in a lot of judging looks and whispers when they walked into a room hand in hand. But she didn’t care about all of that because that hand in hers made her feel strangely safe.

Their love was not a fairytale. It wasn’t an early Taylor Swift song – but more like “Set Fire to the Rain”-esque Adele. There were a lot of screaming fights and nights where she sat alone in her bed and cried, not knowing where he was or who he was with.

But that was the beginning and this was the end.

Not many people attended the funeral. At the time of his death, Jeff’s catalogue of acquaintances still consisted of more enemies than friends. But Luke came with Will and they stood on either side of her at the gravesite and Will even let her cry on his shoulder. She was glad they still had each other’s backs – even after everything that happened.

She didn’t see Rayna there until the end, after the minister said his final words and everyone else started to walk away. That’s when Rayna came up and gave her a hug and told her how sorry she was. She knew Rayna didn’t approve of their relationship. She knew Rayna wasn’t Jeff’s biggest fan. But Rayna was a good friend to Layla and that’s why she was there that day. Layla couldn’t have been more grateful.

She threw herself back into her music immediately. Music was the only thing that kept her going and the only thing that could ease the pain – even if the pain was the very thing that fueled her creativity.

Rayna worked with her closely. They spent a lot of late nights that turned into early mornings chugging coffee, scribbling lyrics, and metaphorically pulling out their hair.

They ended up with some good songs. _No_. They ended up with some _great_ songs. The album was tentatively titled _From the Ashes_ and it was set for a spring release.

At night sometimes she wouldn’t be able to get to sleep. That’s when the memories came flooding back to her. She felt lucky that she didn’t remember him as a saint – because he wasn’t and he wouldn’t have wanted that. She remembered him as many things, but never a saint.

She understood how people could worship the dead like they never made mistakes when they walked among the living. She understood that point of view, that way of coping. But that wasn’t her. And that wasn’t them.

Jeff Fordham was smart. He was ruthless and manipulative and harsh. Sometimes he held her too hard. Sometimes his stubble marked him on her like a brand when he kissed her. Sometimes his destructiveness destroyed everything in his path, including her.

But then, there was vulnerability.

It’s almost like she’d found a key to a side of Jeff that he never let anyone else see – not since Jade. Not since that last heartbreak when he’d built up those walls that it took so long for Layla to tear down.

Sometimes they’d be lying in bed or sitting on the couch and he’d go all quiet – all caught up in his own thoughts and she would run a hand lazily through his hair and ask what was wrong. And he’d never actually tell her, but then they would make love and it would actually feel like that’s what they were doing. Their usual raw passion would give way to something gentler and he’d kiss her softly the whole time and whisper sweet nothings when he nibbled on her ear.

She hesitated to name a new manager too quickly. Something about making it official made everything seem too final and too real. Despite this uncertainty, she knew without a thought who it would be. She didn’t know Glenn that well, but he came to her set at the Bluebird that night when no one else was there for her and gave her his card. She also knew that he was no stranger to dealing with artists in pain.

Their initial meeting went well and he hugged her when the tears started to well up. They agreed that they were perfect for each other, both having been burned by Juliette Barnes and both at a career crossroads. And so they forged on and Glenn started working on getting Layla some press.

The first official single from her new album was called “Heights” and it shot up to number one on the country charts almost instantly. There wasn’t any discussion on what the song was about – everyone who read the news knew about her very public tragedy.

 

_Baby, we were like a rocket shooting straight to the moon_

_But there’s something to be said about how high you lifted me_

_Because the higher the heights, the greater the fall_

 

The song was popular enough that Rolling Stone called and wanted an interview. It would be her first major interview since his death and she agreed to it despite the churning in her stomach at the thought of talking to a journalist without him there.

He’d pumped her up through a lot of interviews. After the disastrous meeting with that music blogger he used to sleep with, she’d made him agree to only set up interviews where the interviewer was totally neutral to both of them. It worked out pretty well. They had a lot of fun.

One time, she’d had to do a phone interview that was broadcast live over a Nashville radio station. She did the interview from the comfort of her own home, but he got bored five minutes into it, took off her pants, and settled his head between her thighs. She spent the rest of the interview trying not to sound like her manager/maybe-boyfriend (this was before they’d defined things) was getting her off with his lips and tongue.

She didn’t finish before the end of the interview – thankfully – so then Jeff took off his own pants and fucked her right there on the couch with the lights on and the blinds open.

Now, in the present, it was just her and Glenn walking into a coffee shop to meet with the Rolling Stone writer. There were no longer any lines blurring her professional and personal lives, but there was also no one to celebrate with. Her career was finally happening and he would never be there to see it happen. The fruit of their work together was finally blossoming, but he was six feet underground. 

The writer asked a lot of personal questions, but she expected that. She didn’t expect him to ask them so clinically, like she wasn’t a person as much as a paycheck. But, in retrospect, she figured that’s exactly what she was.

She didn’t make the cover, but the story spanned three pages. The photoshoot was taken from the top of a tall building in Nashville – one of similar height to the one he fell from. It made her shiver when she ran her fingers along the top of the ledge. It made her wonder what his last thoughts were and if her face crossed his mind in those last precious moments. But she held it together and she managed to put on a brave face for the photographers. And, when she finally picked up the issue and opened it to her article, she felt like she looked strong.

When she started reading, she felt even stronger.

 

> ROLLING STONE: Most of America knows about your recent tragedy. Your boyfriend and manager, Jeff Fordham, fell to his death from the ledge of a building in Atlanta. How has this impacted your songwriting?
> 
> LAYLA GRANT: It’s impacted my songwriting a lot, which I think is natural. This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to deal with – and I’ve had to deal with this heartbreak in the public eye. To me, grieving can go two ways. You can internalize it and you can sit and cry or you can take control of your own life and use it for good. Jeff taught me to do that. No matter what, he taught me that you always have to keep going.
> 
> ROLLING STONE: Jeff Fordham had a reputation in the music business for being, well, for being kind of brutal on his artists – yet you guys had a romantic relationship. Will you confirm if these rumors held any truth?
> 
> LAYLA GRANT: Jeff was never a perfect man. It was not always smooth sailing to be with him, but it was rewarding. He had a side to him that the public wasn’t privy to. That’s all I’m willing to say about that.
> 
> ROLLING STONE: Juliette Barnes, another artist that Fordham managed, was there the night that it happened and there are still conflicting reports on exactly what happened on the night of his death. Juliette checked herself into rehab recently and hasn’t made any public statements. Have you two been in touch since the incident?
> 
> LAYLA GRANT: No, we haven’t.

 

The album went gold. She got more calls for interviews and she got calls from brands wanting her to become their spokesperson. She found out from Rayna about the tour. Her first headlining tour – with Gunnar and Scarlett opening for her. They hit cities all over the country and she got to pour her heart out every night on that stage. She closed every show with a cover of “The Dance” by Garth Brooks. Every night, after the show, she’d go to her tour bus and clutch his picture and cry. _So much for strong_ , she’d think.

She started getting a lot of letters from fans at shows and in the mail. In the world of Twitter and Instagram, she didn’t realize that people still wrote letters. But they did. And the vast majority of them were letters thanking her for her honest lyrics and telling her that her music helped them get through difficult times in their lives.

She responded to as many of them as she could. She met as many fans as she could, holding intimate gatherings that Glenn set up with a limited number of people in each city.

She visited Jeff’s grave every time she came back to Nashville. She sat there with flowers and she told him about all of her success and all the good she felt like she was doing – all because of him.

No one else ever brought him flowers.

One day, she received a letter from an 18-year-old fan who detailed an account of psychological abuse from her boyfriend.

_He says he loves me, but then he tells me to dye my hair blonde and drop 5 pounds. He tells me he can’t live without me, but then he lashes out and tells me I’m worthless. I can’t help but love him anyway. My mom and friends think I’m crazy. Your music has helped me realize they might be right. I wish I could have a love like you and Jeff had._

Layla cried for hours after reading the letter. She worked on a response for three days – a response that ended up spanning five pages of advice combined with understanding and kinship.

A few days later, she wrote “What I Couldn’t Change.” It was the most honest song she’d written about their relationship to date – a song that explained all the ambiguities she’d written about in “Makes No Sense At All.”

 

_I’m a cautionary tale_

_Just a girl who refused to fail_

_And his arms just seemed so warm on that dark night_

_So I let him in and he clipped my wings_

_He drew blood, said it was just the price of everything_

_He’s what I couldn’t change_

 

She released the song – with Rayna’s blessing – as a surprise single. She wasn’t writing the new album yet, but she had to get it out there. She had to tell the rest of her story, the part that people didn’t know about.

Out of nowhere, an idea blossomed. She met with Rayna and Bucky and Glenn and every contact that they knew and she told them her idea: she wanted to launch her own nonprofit foundation for victims of domestic psychological abuse.

She worked hard – pouring blood, sweat, and tears into this new passion. It took months and a lot of money and a lot of help from a lot of great people, but she did it. The Layla Grant Foundation for Peace of Mind was born.

At the kickoff event, Layla walked up onto the stage of a beautiful banquet hall in Nashville and addressed an audience full of her friends, her colleagues, and a myriad of people passionate about making a difference. She smiled and she placed the note cards that she’d written her speech on face down on the podium. She didn’t need note cards. This was her life.

“Thank you everyone for coming out today. I’m Layla Grant. Most of you know me as a country singer or a short lived reality TV star. Some of you know me as Will Lexington’s ex-wife. Others know me as the girl who was dating Jeff Fordham when he fell off that building,” she began. “I am each of those things. I’m also someone who inexplicably found herself loving a man who didn’t always have my best interests at heart.

“I loved Jeff very much and I know he loved me. I don’t doubt that for a second, but there was a time in our relationship that I did doubt that. Abuse is not always physical. It took me a very long time to figure that out. I never thought of myself as a victim of abuse until a fan wrote me a very eye-opening letter. I realized that it can happen to anyone and that’s why I’m starting this foundation.

“Thank you all for coming out to support the Foundation for Peace of Mind. I look forward to working with you and doing everything we can to raise awareness of this very real problem. Thank you.”

She stepped down off the stage to a round of applause from everyone attending. She sat back down at her table with Rayna, Glenn, and Bucky to watch the rest of speakers of the evening.

Hours later, as the event winded down, Layla helped the rest of the crew take down the decorations and fold up the tables. It wasn’t her job, but she liked to help in every way she could.

It was at that time that she felt a hand on her shoulder. Turning around, she found herself face to face with Juliette Barnes for the first time in over a year. The flashbacks hit her like a ton of bricks: she was in Jeff’s arms and suddenly a stir came from across the crowded room. Juliette attacking a fan for asking for a photo. Jeff letting her go and running to Juliette to pull her away.

Layla blinked. Juliette Barnes was still standing in front of her. This version of Juliette Barnes differed greatly to the last time they’d been face to face. Juliette was wearing her hair shorter and her outfit was classy but conservative. Two adjectives that Layla never thought she’d find herself using to describe Juliette.

“Juliette—”

But Juliette placed a hand in front of her, a cue for Layla to let her speak.

“Me first. I just wanted to say that I think you’re incredibly brave to put so much of yourself out there. I can’t do that anymore and I really underestimated you. And I’m very, very sorry for my role in Jeff’s death. I know words won’t bring him back and it won’t erase the pain that I put you through. But it’s true,” Juliette told her.

Juliette wiped a tear from her eye.

“I’ve done a lot of really bad things to a lot of people who didn’t deserve it. Even Jeff, after all the shit he put us all through, deserved way better than what I gave to him in the end,” she went on. “I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me one day.”

Layla stood there in silence for a few seconds. The last year of her life, despite the pain, was filled with so much growth and learning. She’d learned more about herself than she ever had in years past. None of the things she had always wanted to say to Juliette seemed to make sense anymore.

“Thank you,” Layla replied, simply. “I do forgive you.”

And in that moment, Layla took Juliette in her arms and the two women embraced. It was a genuine, heartfelt embrace. In that moment they were not country music stars – they were two women who’d been faced with an impossibly hard year that they’d been forced to get through in whatever they could.

There were still days when the hurt felt new and raw, but those days were giving way to better days. They were healing. It wouldn’t be easy and it would take a lot more work, but it was a start.

 


End file.
